Unexpected
by escapewithstories
Summary: For Blake Secret Santa on tumblr: Lucien has a surprise for Jean, or vice versa


Blake Secret Santa Prompt from _martyswale_ : Lucien has a surprise for Jean, or vice versa.

I believe I may have used an alternative definition of the word 'surprise' than you probably intended, but this is the first idea that popped into my head when I read it, so I ran with it. I hope you enjoy it nonetheless because I sure had a lot of fun writing it.

As always, thanks to my amazing partner in crime _IReadAndWriteSometimes_ for her critical eye and wise suggestions. I could never do this without you.

* * *

 **UNEXPECTED**

Typically, once the holidays had come and gone, the everyday routines of a household would fall back into place and life would become somewhat simple again. This year, however, Jean's life would not be returning to normal. Some aspects would remain unchanged, but others would become unrecognizable; in many ways, it already had. In just over two months she would become Mrs. Blake.

Without the demands of a Police Surgeon to keep him busy and a still relatively light appointment calendar (there were still patients who hadn't decided if he could be trusted again), Lucien had a lot of spare time on his hands. Jean knew allowing her fiance's mind to remain idle for too long would eventually create trouble, so she attempted to keep him distracted as best she could with planning for the upcoming nuptials.

Choosing flower arrangements, deciding whether they would serve just hors d'oeuvres or a full meal at the reception, and pretending to allow him to have a say in which color table cloths they would use were not up to par with the usual puzzles Lucien solved, but he was as devoted to the simple tasks as he was when he had been on a case. It was a sentiment that Jean truly appreciated and she adored him all the more for it. With most of the major decisions now set in stone, Jean was using her first free day at home alone to return to the familiar as she caught up on all the housework that had fallen to the wayside over the past week or two.

Lucien had left fairly early that morning for a haircut before a scheduled house call, then he said he would be stopping by the Club to speak with Cec regarding some questions he had about the venue. He had tried to make it sound like official business, but she knew he was itching for an excuse to get out of the house and didn't expect him to return until dinner. She knew that Cec wouldn't let him get into too much trouble and therefore she wasn't all that worried. It was honestly a relief to not have him under foot, for in his recent spare time, the poor man had attempted to help her with some of the daily chores and more often than not, he made a disaster of things.

Over the last month she had almost lost two of her favorite potted plants after Lucien had attempted to transfer them for her and there was a significantly sized brown patch of lawn next to one of the flower beds, the result of an experiment to determine which fertilizer was _'optimal for plant re-growth'_. How he hadn't managed to kill every plant in that bed, she still didn't know. The garden wasn't the only place his assisting hands had been keeping busy. She still couldn't bring herself to think about the blouse he ruined when he decided to take care of the ironing for her one day. No amount of strategic placement, nor her favorite jumper, could hide the large burn mark that stretched across the left side of her chest.

Needless to say, Lucien's help around the house had been relegated to only helping with the dishes and the occasional dusting or vacuuming.

It was these memories fresh in mind that had Jean taking care of the gardening and neglected laundry first thing the moment Lucien stepped out the front door. It was now half an hour before lunch and she was folding the last of the laundry that she had just pulled off the line. Most of it was Lucien's and she was grateful she didn't have to make multiple trips around the house to put it all away.

Approaching his bedroom door, she huffed in irritation at finding it closed and she immediately regretted not bringing the laundry basket along as she shuffled the clothing so that it balanced on one hand, allowing her to turn the knob with the other. Had she not been distracted by mentally rearranging and ticking off items on her to-do list, she would've remembered that Lucien had left the door open, much like he always did each morning, and she would've thought twice about entering without knocking. Seeing as how none of that crossed her mind, Jean was not expecting to encounter a half-naked man the moment she entered the room.

Her scream, which he would later exaggeratingly describe as ear-piercing, startled Lucien just as he was stepping into his trousers. Instead of sliding easily into the leg, his foot got caught on the waistband and he began to lose his balance. He would've managed to steady himself if it weren't for the immediate second assault of boxers and socks that were hurled at his face, obscuring his line of sight to the first object he could reach out and grab onto. His hand missed the bed by mere centimeters and with his feet still tangled in his trousers and with no other recourse to save himself, he began to tumble downwards. His fall was briefly halted when his face and torso landed on the soft cushion of the mattress, but the springs promptly bounced him right back off and he ultimately landed on the floor, but not before his head smacked the bed frame and his arm snagged on the edge of the trunk at its end.

If he wasn't bruised and battered before, he most certainly was now.

"Lucien!" Jean's now empty hands clasped her chest as she fought to catch her breath. "What are you doing here?" She belatedly realized that she should be asking about his well-being seeing as how he was sprawled across the floor, but she was still not over the shock at finding him home...and only partially dressed.

Lucien started to struggle in an attempt to get up off the floor. "I cal—" He reached up and yanked off a pair of boxers that still clung to his face and angrily flung them across the room, then failed in trying to stand up once again. "Damnit! If I could just get...these...off!" he growled.

His legs thrashed wildly and his body twisted and flailed in every direction as he attempted to free the one leg that he managed to get into his trousers. With one final kick and a labored grunt, the offending piece of clothing came off and landed at Jean's feet. He collapsed back onto the floor, chest heaving from the exertion, and looked up at her with the most dejected look on his face. "I called out to you."

"I didn't hear you," a very un-Jean-like snort escaped as she fought to suppress her amusement, "I was out back gathering the laundry off the line." She tried offering him a sympathetic smile, but the hilarity of the situation ultimately bested her usually infallible sense of decorum and she bent at the waist as she began to giggle uncontrollably.

"It's not funny," he pouted, "I may not be able to get off this floor." Despite his best attempts to maintain his steely expression, the sight of Jean laughing so merrily had Lucien chuckling right along with her.

After several deep breaths and a finger swiping at the few tears that had collected on her lashes, Jean felt composed enough to reach out and offer him a helping hand, which Lucien accepted gratefully. As he rose from the ground, Lucien decided to take advantage of her giving mood and emitted a pained groan while clutching at his lower back with his free hand; he even threw in a couple of stumbles for good measure. Jean's eye roll suggested she immediately caught on to what he was up to and was not in the least bit impressed with his dramatics, but she must have decided to take pity on him nonetheless and indulge his not-so-subtle cry for attention.

"Let's have a look at you," she cooed sweetly at him, ignoring the small, triumphant smile that briefly lifted his lips.

Her hands slid up his arms, one of them pausing briefly at the small red mark that formed where he hit the trunk. Her palm lightly rubbed over the spot before gently prodding deeper with her fingers. Satisfied that it would be nothing worse than a bruise later on, the hand joined her other at his shoulders. She gave them a light squeeze as her gaze scanned over his singlet-covered torso, and if her eyes happened to linger longer than necessary, neither of them were keen on pointing it out.

Next, she took stock of his face. Her eyes were immediately drawn to the small gash just below his hairline. It wasn't very long, nor did it seem to be very deep, but she still felt guilty for being so thoughtless and laughing at him only moments ago.

Lucien must have sensed her remorse for he immediately began to reassure her. "It doesn't hurt all that much." He flashed a toothy grin. "I think the bed faired worse than I did."

His words did little to assure her and she uttered a quiet apology as she gave the wound one more lookover before taking in the rest of him.

"Lucien," she tsked, "your face is covered in dirt." Her fingers traveled to his unusually disheveled locks to pluck out several pieces of debris. "And you've got..." she inspected her gatherings with a closer eye, "is that hay in your hair?"

"Erm, probably."

She glanced towards the bed where a shirt lay, still wrapped around the hanger, then turned back to look him over once more and her nose crinkled. "You didn't think it would be a good idea to wash up before putting on a clean shirt?"

"Well, I, erm..." Lucien cleared the raspiness from his throat in hopes of conveying more confidence than he had. "I thought if I swapped out my suit for one that isn't torn and made myself a bit more presentable," he offered up a sheepish smile, "you'd be a little less cross with me when you found out that I, erm, fell through the rotted floor of a hayloft…" The last of his statement was said in such a rush she almost couldn't decipher it.

Jean's response was one that Lucien had anticipated, for it was the typical response he received when he had done or said something dimwitted which was often. There were no sharp words of reprimand, just a simple lift of that impeccable brow of hers. When she gave him that look, Lucien was always torn between wanting to hide in shame or to gather her up and kiss her senseless. Since he wasn't sure just how hot the water he was standing in was, or if she'd appreciate his over-zealous response, he went with a moderated version of the latter.

"I know, my darling," he placed a gentle kiss against that infuriatingly irresistible brow, "it was foolish thinking on my part."

"Mm-hm," she agreed with no small amount of humor, but she took some of the sting out of the rebuke when her thumb wiped away a smudge of dirt from his chin before placing a light kiss in the same spot. "Now," Jean reluctantly stepped away from him and scooped up his forgotten trousers off the floor and handed them over to him, "go clean yourself up so I can tend to your wounds."

While in the bathroom, Lucien decided to take inventory of his injuries for himself. There was a sizeable scrape running up his left calf that likely matched the size of the rip in the leg of his slacks. It looked as though it had been bleeding at one point, but had since dried up. He was thankful Jean had been too distracted to notice for she surely would've fussed over it more than necessary. He would make sure to give it a proper clean up when he had more time and there was less risk of being caught. For now, he would simply hide it beneath his clothes. He then lifted up the singlet he wore and tenderly poked at a few of his ribs that had bore the brunt of his fall. Thankfully, they only felt slightly bruised.

Overall, he wasn't in too bad a shape, he certainly had been worse off before. He was lucky that only his bottom half had gone through the flooring; he could only imagine what the damage would've been had he fallen completely through and hit the hard ground below.

Lucien looked over his reflection a final time and only once he was certain all injuries that Jean had thus far been oblivious to were hidden, did he feel confident enough to exit the bathroom to go in search of her. He found her in the surgery sorting through the first aid supplies, putting aside those she would need. When she caught sight of him out of the corner of her eye, she patted the exam table next to her, indicating for him to take a seat.

"What were you doing in a hayloft?"

Her tone may have been casual, but her level of inquiry certainly was not. He knew she would not let him weasel out of an explanation and was only surprised she had waited this long to ask him about the incident.

"After I finished examining Mrs. Morrow and the baby, little Samantha caught me on my way out the door." He hopped up on the table and then sat still so Jean could get to work. "She asked me to take a look at their barn cat's new litter of kittens."

"Was there something wrong with them?"

"No, no, they were fine." He hissed when the antiseptic came in contact with the broken skin. "Turns out the loft was off-limits due to the poor state of the wood and she was forbidden to climb up there until Mr. Morrow has a chance to replace the boards."

"So she convinced you to go up instead?"

She was standing so close and she was staring at him with that quirked eyebrow again, that he couldn't resist the urge to touch her. He gently rested his hands on each side of her waist and prayed she wouldn't swat them away.

His response was slow in coming as he waited to see her reaction. "And she didn't warn me about the potential hazards because she was afraid I'd say no."

"Oh, Lucien." She stepped closer in between his legs, a move that delighted him to no end, for it allowed his hands to clasp together behind the small of her back as he held her closer. "I hope she didn't get into too much trouble for causing you so much."

"I may have taken my fair share of the blame."

"Of course you did." Although she truly wished he'd be more careful, she couldn't quite fault him this time. "You're lucky you didn't injure yourself much worse," she said, voicing his earlier thought.

"Well, if I'm honest," his tone and expression said he was loathe to be so, "I will probably be quite sore tomorrow."

Her hand cupped his cheek and her thumb gently stroked his beard as she said, "I would imagine so."

Lucien loved these moments when they connected and it seemed like nothing else in the world mattered. He regretted, however, that they most often seemed to occur when they were seeking comfort for some injustice they had endured, or in the aftermath of some trouble he'd found himself in. He made a silent vow that in the future he would try harder to create happy memories that would inspire moments of affection like this. For now, he decided to make the most of the moment he currently had.

His head dipped and he captured her lips with his, then smiled against her mouth when the hand that was still at his cheek immediately slipped to the back of his neck and pulled him closer. He responded in kind by sliding one of his hands up to her shoulder blades and pressing her into his chest. She didn't shy away from the kiss as she had done before, but continued to match his intensity with each brush of their lips. It was Lucien who finally pulled away when he felt he could no longer trust his self-control, and his head dropped to her shoulder as he continued to hold her close.

"I haven't had lunch yet," there was a slight tremor in her voice that she steadied with a deep breath, "would you like to join me?"

He placed a light kiss at the juncture of her neck before lifting his head to smile at her. "I'd love to."

When Lucien finally released her, Jean didn't allow him to get up just quite yet. He had thoroughly distracted her before she had finished properly bandaging up his forehead. Once her task was completed, she reached for the clean shirt she had picked up from his bed and brought along with her. He didn't need her assistance in putting it on, but that didn't mean she wouldn't relish the opportunity to do so. Their wedding was just right around the corner, but in some ways it still felt like a lifetime away. Until then, she would allow herself to take and enjoy any unexpected surprises such as this one.

~END~


End file.
